


Dentist Appointment

by bloodyteeth



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood, Captive, Oral, Other, Tooth Kink, Tooth Pulling, lotta blood, noncon, sorry mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyteeth/pseuds/bloodyteeth
Summary: Strade gots pliers, and you gots teeth!





	Dentist Appointment

**Author's Note:**

> Okay but for real this is my first ever fic about anything so criticism on my writing strongly encouraged (or if you just want to kinkshame in the comments idgaf)

You awaken to smell of mildew and blood.

Through your bleary eyes you see a workbench with an array of power tools, underneath a concrete floor, and above, a single flickering light. Against your back is a metal pole, running from the ground to the ceiling. As you try to stand and get your bearings, you realize your wrists are bound behind the pole, and your heart drops into your stomach. You tug and pull at the rope, a sense of panic quickly arising in you. A scream is forming in your throat, but before you can open your mouth, a hand roughly grabs at your jaw. You freeze.

A surprisingly cheery voice speaks from behind you, “You’re awake, Liebling! You had me worried there for a moment!” and the voice lets out a chuckle. Instantly, you recognize this voice. /His/ voice. That friendly fellow in the bar, who so graciously bought you a beer...which he must have drugged on his way back to the table. Shit.

“L-Listen, I’ll do anything you want, and-” you whimper, but before you can continue, his hand tightens on your jaw.

“Anything? Hmn...” the man ponders behind you, tapping his fingers against your cheek. You hear a shuffling behind you, and the grip on your face is released. The man walks out from behind you to the workbench on the far wall, and rummages through one of the drawers. After a moment of searching, you see a metal tool glint in his hand, before he turns to face you, and keeps the instrument behind his back. “Before we begin, I’ll let you know, my name’s Strade. What was your name again?” he tilts his head to the side and asks with an almost endearing look on his face.

“I’m...Y/N.” you mutter nervously.

“Y/N, wonderful!” he beams at you, with a broad, trusting grin. “Now, go ahead and open your mouth.” Your breath catches in your throat; you knew this was coming. He’s going to make you suck his nasty dick. That’s what he really brought you here for. Fearing worse will come if you resist, you hesitantly open your mouth, waiting for him to unbuckle his belt.

He does not.

Instead, he pulls the tool from behind his back- a utility tool, with the pliers out. He starts eyeing over your teeth, and immediately you snap your jaw back shut.

“What’s the matter, Liebling?” he asks, his smile faltering just a touch. The pliers lower, and he reaches up his other hand to grasp your jaw. His face draws near to yours and you can smell the booze on his breath as he prods, “You said /anything/.”

Tears are forming in your eyes, and you purse your quivering lips to keep small sobs inside. Your gaze is fixed on the pliers, and your eyes widen as Strade flips the tool from pliers to...a knife. Before you can think, he’s jammed it into your thigh, sawing a deep gash across your leg. You belt out a scream, and with your mouth open, it is already too late. The tool clicks back to pliers, and you feel the cool metal on your gums. In an instant he grips a bicuspid and yanks it out, tossing the tooth to the side. Your screams become garbled as warm blood fills your mouth drips down your throat, but this does not stop him from grabbing yet another, and repeating the process. Over. And Over. Your visions blurs through the pain, but you can feel Strade’s hot breath and hear his ragged panting as he watches your terror. His hands are painted a crimson red, and flecks of blood have landed on his face, which twinges in pleasure every time he rips out another tooth, root and all.

After only a few short moments of excruciating pain and agony, all that is left of your mouth is blood and gums. Iron is all you can taste. Teeth litter the floor, not that you can see them through the tears. Beyond the pounding in your ears, you finally hear his belt unbuckle.

You make a valiant but ultimately futile effort to dodge his member, shaking your head and spraying blood. You hair grasped in his hands, he finally thrusts into your mouth, sliding smoothly across your gums. Mixing in the air are pained yelps and moans of ecstasy, his ragged breath and the retched sound of his length sloppily exploring your throat. Just before you’ve reached your limit, you feel him thrust deeper than before, and he lets out a final groan as he sends his cum down your throat. He is coated in gore as he pulls out, and the sight is finally enough to make you collapse. The last you hear is that chuckle, and the last you see is that damn grin.


End file.
